


Aphrodite's Warrior

by AphroditesWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Love, Multi, Oral, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8521816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditesWriter/pseuds/AphroditesWriter
Summary: Dee doesn't realize how much her life is about to change when Dean and Sam Winchester come to town to help her with a haunted house. Her life is about to be flipped upside down with a large task placed on her shoulders: protect the Winchesters.With new abilities and strengths, can she manage to unite the brothers against their task and right the balance between good and evil? Or will she manage to be the one thing that tears them apart?





	

Chapter One  
The hot Montana sun was beating down on my back, even through the tank top I wore as I finished the oil change on my car. My hands were covered in oil and I was sure that my face had smears of oil as well; the tank top I wore was stained with oil and clung to me with the sweat. I needed a shower before going to work, that was certain.  
I worked only a couple miles down the expansive back roads highway at the Wayward Sons Tavern and Inn. The owner, Ted, had become like a father to me in the couple years that I had been in Montana since my car had broken down outside the small town so long ago. I had made the place my home simple because the people alone were more than friendly and welcoming. I really hadn't intended to stay longer than it would have taken to fix my car, but the people had given me something I hadn't had in a long time: a feeling of home; and I wasn't ready to leave quite yet.  
I showered and dressed quickly for work, sitting on the sofa in my apartment over the office of Harold's Garage where I lived. On my coffee table was a reminder of something I wanted to forget, but something I was committed to finishing. My chest tightened at my still present pain of my closest friend's death, but there was a shadow of fear with that tightness as well because I knew something wasn't right about her death.  
The alarm on my watch went off reminding me I had less than thirty minutes before my shift. I sighed, turning the alarm off and shaking the terrible thoughts from my mind as I grabbed the keys to my car off the counter along with a clean cloth to wipe the oil spots off the hood of my car I had left behind during the oil change.  
I headed back downstairs, the warm sun hitting my bare back in the halter top that tied around my torso. I wasn't one for usually wearing skimpy clothes such as the halter top and tight short jean skirt that I wore at that time, but I had learned in a bar setting, less clothing meant more tips.  
The expensive paint job on my car shimmered under the sun; at least my car never failed to make me smile. I had acquired the 1969 Mustang frame at a car auction a few years ago, after graduating college with a Bachelor's in human psychology and the sciences of human behavior. I was determined to complete the engine myself and after a year of working on it, learning everything myself and only having help with manpower and a little instruction. Getting the engine to start the first time had been one of the most thrilling and satisfying experiences ever because I had been the one to get it working.  
Before closing the hood, I checked the new oil's level with a rag; satisfied with the job I had done, I closed the hood before cleaning the oil spots off the it.  
The sound of a classic car's engine in need of a tune up broke through the silence behind me and I turned as a black 1967 Impala pulled up along the side of the shop behind my car. I wiped my hands on the folded cloth, keeping the dirty side inside the fold as I wiped the smudge on my hand.  
A very handsome man with piercing green eyes got out, glancing between my car and me.  
"The garage is closed. You'll have to come back on Monday for your much needed tune up."  
He eyed me in shock, "Uh, excuse me?"  
I pointed to the Impala, currently idling roughly. "You have a rough idol meaning you probably need an oil change too, but that will be taken care of with a tune up. Like I said, Monday." I turned back towards my car, finding a last oil smudge and cleaning it.  
The man snickered, "Are you a mechanic here or something, sweetheart?"  
"I live in the apartment above the office and use the garage to repair my car; otherwise, no, I'm not a certified mechanic." I walked over behind the shop, tossing my now dirty cloth into the bin of rags to be washed.  
"She's a beauty."  
I turned back around as the man admired my car. I glanced back at the Impala and saw another man in the passenger's seat; he had longer hair and seemed taller, but was just as handsome and with kinder eyes. But I found the green piercing eyes more intriguing.  
"What is she? A '68?"  
"'69." I replied. "Your Impala's gorgeous too, but like I said, I would take care of that tune up. I can add you to Harold's appointment book if you'd like."  
He smirked at me, "Not here for the garage, sweetheart. Only I work on my own engine."  
"Then you're lacking in taking care of your car."  
He scoffed, "Listen, sweetheart, you've got a beautiful car here, but you're still no mechanic."  
I smirked. He was cocky and I had no problem putting a cocky man in his place. I opened the hood of my car, holding the hood. "I got this car as a frame only. Fixed up the engine once and completely replaced it here. It's got a custom slant 6 with a variety of other custom parts, designed and installed by me as well. Every part in this car from the nuts and bolts to the custom exhaust and slant 6 were all installed by me."  
He leaned over the engine admiring the gorgeous custom work that even impressed at car shows. In truth, while I had helped design the custom parts, a friend who was an engineering student home for the summer had helped me actually design them, but I had installed them.  
He whistled in awe at the engine. "Damn! Baby, this is a work of art right here! You did this?" He looked at me in disbelief.  
I nodded, "Might have had a little help from an engineering friend for the designs and welder when needed, but other than that, yes, it was done by me." I closed the hood. "Now, what is it that I can help you with before I need to leave to go to my actual job?"  
"My brother and I, we're looking for someone named Dee Cavanaugh."  
I raised an eyebrow, "Why are you looking for Dee?"  
"Our business with Dee is personal, so if you could just tell us where to find them that would be great. Someone told us we could find them here."  
"How personal can it be if I don't even know who you are?" I crossed my arms lightly as I eyed him.  
He smirked, "You're Dee, aren't you?"  
I held my hand out to him, "And you are?"  
He shook my hand, "Dean Winchester and that's my brother Sam." He motioned towards the car.  
Sam waved and I waved back after slipping my hand from Dean's rather quickly. That was strange... why had his touch made my entire body seem to almost... vibrate?  
I met Dean's eyes, hoping that the slight blush I was trying to hide could be seen as just flushed from the intense heat that would only get worse for the next hour before cooling off again. "So why are you two looking for me?"  
"Well, sweetheart, how much time do you have before you have to get to work?"  
I glanced at my watch and sighed, "None. But if you follow me down the road to the tavern I work at, I'll get you both dinner and after you eat you can tell me why you're here."  
He grinned, "Never one turn down a gorgeous girl's offer." Now that tone was definitely flirtatious.  
I opened my driver's side door as I pulled the keys out of my pocket. "I'll keep that in mind later." I said as slipped inside and closed the door.  
I watched him in my rear view mirror as I started the car, the engine roaring to life. He got in his car as my engine settled to a pristinely perfect purr, the sound more than enough to send thrilling tingles through my veins.  
One thing I loved about the position of my apartment to my work, was the long stretch of back highway, rarely used. The local police knew the work I had put into my car and that I also attended car shows occasionally and they didn't bother to pull me over for speeding down the highway.  
I shifted into first and sped onto the highway, shifting rapidly as my speed accelerated. I heard the Impala's engine and saw the sleek black car slip into my vision on my right. His brother didn't seem too happy, but Dean was smirking. He wanted to race, huh? I smirked, stepping on the gas and shifting into the highest gear; my engine roared and my car quickly pulled ahead.  
I saw the cop car off on the side of the road, Sheriff Steve Gibson flashed his lights and siren as I passed, waving out my rolled down window. The impala was now behind me and wasn't going to catch up until I stopped. I sped around, pulling into the dirt space between the tavern and Inn. I drifted around the backside of the tavern as I shifted down quickly and slowed to a stop beside Ted's truck.  
Luke Harris, a local guy, came down the highway from the other direction where he lived, pulling in beside me on his motorcycle as I got out. "Ever think of doing actual street racing?"  
"You mean illegal street racing?" I closed my door and tied my apron around my waist. I was a waitress, but I was also Ted's manager for both the tavern and Inn.  
He shrugged with a smirk, "With those skills and that car, you could make some serious money."  
The Impala parked on the other side of Luke's bike and the brothers got out. I turned to walk around Luke's bike. "I think I'll stick to the right side of the law on this one."  
"Suit yourself." He smirked. I knew he liked me and it wasn't as though he wasn't cute; I just happened to know that he had a past that included juvenile detention centers being called home, more than once.  
I felt his eyes on me as Sam turned and headed inside while Dean was heading towards me grinning. "So, you can make a beautiful engine like that and clearly have a passion for cars... so, why are you a waitress?"  
"Manager actually, but I waitress for tips as well. And my passion for cars seems to be more exclusive to my car."  
We headed towards the door and he opened it for me. "What got you into cars to begin with."  
"She did." He headed toward where Sam sat.  
"She?"  
"My car. I had money and needed a car, I new that going to an auction would mean getting something that needed repairs and after three years studying psychology, I needed a break from the mental exhaustion and needed to something that required me to use my hands. So, why not make it repairing a car I needed?"  
"Only three years?" Sam asked. "Why not finish your degree?"  
"Oh, I did. I have a bachelors in psychology and the sciences of human behavior. In fact, I was all set to get my masters and then my PhD. I did a paid internship which gave me a enough money purchase the car that I fell in love with when I saw it. True, she wasn't much more than a frame, honestly. The engine was wrecked and nothing was worth saving, it needed new axles, clutch, tires—obviously. But the frame is solid steel and you can't replicate that and even with most airbags, a steel frame will save your life in situations where newer car frames even with airbags wouldn't. I took a year off to fix her up and worked part time under a professor who was encouraging me to go for my PhD."  
"Why didn't you?" Sam asked.  
"Honestly?" I shrugged. "I didn't want to dive into the human psyche anymore. I didn't want to understand why people did what they did, because the further that you dive into it, the more it makes less and less sense. The brain is a powerful muscle with power still unknown today, but it's also very fragile in the strangest and often most dangerous of ways. So, I decided to take my car and travel. I got as far as this town."  
"Why?" Dean asked. "I honestly thought you were a local; this is a pretty backwoods town."  
I nodded, "Yeah, but I found something here I hadn't ever really had before." I grabbed two menus off the booth next them which was empty and set them down on the table as Dean sat down.  
"What was that?" Sam asked.  
"Home." I replied with a soft smile that faltered when I thought of half my family now gone and my smile faltered as my chest tightened again, but this time I hadn't been prepared for the pain; I couldn't fight the tears. "I've gotta clock on." I turned quickly, trying not to dash away as I fought the tears.  
I passed the bar and headed into the manager's office, closing the door. As I sat on the small sofa against the opposite wall, I noticed through my blurred vision that the door hadn't closed all the way, but I didn't care. I laid down, letting the tears silently fall.  
No one bothered me; I'm sure Kelsey—another waitress and friend—had checked on me, but she didn't bother me. It wasn't busy and since it was only Thursday, it wouldn't be. I didn't even have to be there, Ted had given me the option to take more time off.  
The tears stopped after awhile and all I thought about was wanting to forget about it for a while and then I bolted upright. I had the perfect opportunity. Dean was gorgeous with a sexy smirk and had been flirting, maybe... just maybe he could be a good distraction for the moment.  
A light knock sounded on the door and Kelsey peaked her head inside, "Those very sexy brothers out there are done eating and asking about you."  
The tears had dried already and since I never wore makeup, I didn't have to worry about that being messed up; I had been blessed with a natural beauty and slender figure, something my mother had always resented me for.  
I stood up, nodding to her. "This heat still gets to me. Guess I didn't realize how much until I was in the AC. Spent all day in the sun."  
"I'll be sure to tell that lie to everyone else, should they ask, but you and I both know you should've taken more time off."  
I sighed, "Maybe you're right."  
"Ted's coming in later, I'll tell him you've decided to take more time off; he'll understand." She pushed the door open as joined her in the doorway where she hugged me. "We all will. You and Tiffany were so close, just like sisters." She let me go. "Now go distract yourself with at least one of those sexy brothers."  
I half smiled, "I intended to."  
"They're low on beers and FYI, I told them you were working on office stuff since you are a manager after all."  
"Thank you. Their tab's on the house." I tossed my apron on the desk and headed out, behind the bar, seeing the bottles they had and grabbing three of the same.  
Dean scooted over, putting his arm on the back of the booth as I sat down, the brother's each taking one of the beers in my hand holding out two. "Thank you."  
"No problem. So, why are you two here looking for me?"  
Dean's hand let go of the beer and landed on the newspaper on the table beside him. He slid it over, pointing at Tiffany's obituary. Great! Guess I couldn't forget after all; I didn't bother trying to plaster on a smile, I sat back, glancing between them.  
Sam leaned forward, "We know this can't be easy for you. We've heard that you two were really close, planning on leaving once her mom was out of the hospital and home. You two were going to travel to each state."  
I nodded, looking down at the black and white photo of the closest friend I had ever had. We had been so close and losing her had been like losing a sister to me. "She was like a sister to me. But why are you two here for that?"  
"How does a healthy 25 year old woman die of a heart attack?" Dean asked.  
I turned and met his eyes, the sadness gone. "She doesn't. The coroner diagnosed it as a heart attack because medically, that was the only explanation."  
"But you think there was something more?" Sam asked.  
"I know there was. The way I found her... that wasn't a normal heart attack, it was like she was frozen in terror or something."  
"And a few weeks before that her grandmother had a heart attack in the house too, right?" Sam asked.  
"Yes, the coroner didn't second guess that one, the woman was old."  
"But she wasn't found frozen in terror?" Dean asked.  
"It wouldn't have taken much to scare an old woman into a heart attack." Sam replied for me.  
I nodded. "True. But that doesn't necessarily rule out the fact that it could still be the same thing that caused both."  
"Let me ask you a question, sweetheart." Dean said after he and Sam shared a secret look. "What do you think caused this?"  
I took a drink of my beer. My mind had ran over everything too many times not to have some reply for this. I sighed, "Logically, my mind is torn in two. All the evidence points to something that it can't possibly be, I mean, I don't believe it... I... I studied psychology, not parapsychology. I mean, I took a course as an elective because it was better than the alternative, but still!"  
Dean furrowed his brow, "Parapsychology?"  
"Paranormal." Sam replied. "Our area of expertise."  
I scoffed, glancing between them and their serious faces. What the hell?! They were freakin' serious?! My smile faded as I glanced between them, "You're serious." I downed most of my beer. I had thought the course had been ridiculous, but had left me with more curiosity that left me scared for some strange reason.  
"Yeah, except trust me, you don't want to study it." Sam said.  
I looked at him in disbelief, "Are you freakin' kidding me?!" Wow that was louder than I had intended it to be, but everyone only glanced briefly and I leaned forward. "If what you're telling me is true then it's killed two people! One of which was like a sister to me. I want it out of that house!" I sat up. "Tiffany's mom is planning on moving into that house once she's released from the hospital. I can't have her moving into a haunted house. So, how do we kill it?" I furrowed my brow. "Can you kill a ghost?"  
"Yes... well, not technically." Dean took a drink.  
"We have to figure out who the ghost is and where they're buried and burn the bones. It'll release the spirit." Sam added.  
I nodded. "So how do we figure out who the ghost is?"  
"Has anyone seen it and lived?" Dean asked.  
"No. I mean, workers around the house have noticed things disappearing or moving, doors slamming, tools turning on, that sort of thing; but I haven't heard anyone having seen a ghost."  
"Workers?" Sam asked.  
"Oh, yeah. Tiffany's grandmother had started renovations on the house; it's a huge plantation house and she wanted to complete her terrarium idea thing. Would've been making the house four times it's size. It was ridiculous. Thankfully, she didn't get too far, now I'm just trying to clean it up and get it all ready for Margaret."  
"So you have access to the house then?" Dean asked.  
"Of course."  
Dean finished his beer, "Good, because scaling that wall or gate would've been a pain in the ass.  
"You were gonna break in?" I asked him in disbelief.  
"Only if necessary." Sam replied quickly. "But we're only here to help, promise."  
I finished my beer. "So, I guess that we're heading to the house, huh?"  
Dean nodded. "Yup. Always--"  
"More active at night." I nodded. "That's what I was afraid of." I sighed. "I've got the gate and house keys in my car."  
"Good, grab them. We'll take my car." Dean motioned for me to get up.  
I got up and headed out, the brothers behind me whispering and falling a few feet behind me before I was walking outside alone. It was really quite outside, the music inside just on the jukebox until tomorrow night when Luke and his friends would play live.  
I went around to the passenger's side door and grabbed what I needed from the glove box. My revolver sat there and I felt the need to grab it as well, slipping the clip on hip holster to my belt and grabbing a black leather with halves from my back seat and putting it on, rolling up my driver's side window as the sudden slight chill to the air told me there might be a storm.  
The moment I closed my door, thunder rolled over head and I was pressed against my car by a familiar body. "Blake." The name came out in a hiss.  
He leaned over my shoulder, "I see you still remember the feel of me behind you." He sniffed my hair. "I know I miss it." Rain began pouring.  
Yeah, I was done. But before I could push off of the car and turn to attack, he was pulled off of me. I quickly spun around, watching Dean push Blake against Ted's truck, reaching for a pocket knife. I quickly grabbed Dean's hand, "Don't he's a cop." I said quietly.  
Dean moved his hand and wrapped it around my side, under my jacket, his other hand pointing at Blake. "I don't care who you are!" He took a step closer, "Touch her again and I will hit you." His tone was menacing and I knew he meant it. His hand wrapped tighter around me... to my other side, where I felt him touch the gun there as we turned to walk around my car towards the Impala. "I'm afraid that handgun isn't going to do much against a ghost, gorgeous."  
"Maybe it just makes me feel safer."  
He pulled me closer as we reached the driver's side door of his car, pressing me against him as he reached for her door with his other hand. "And yet, something tells me you can handle yourself." He peaked inside at the gun. "Especially carrying a handgun like that."  
God, I wanted to kiss him! Why not? So, I did; I grabbed his jacket, pulling him to my lips, even as the rain poured down around us. Oh, the sensations! My body tingled and vibrated and all I wanted was more. He must've felt the same because he eagerly deepened it, his hand cupping my cheek. I melted into him, only wanting more.  
He pulled away first, smirking. "Inside." He said over the thunder rolling over head as he gently ushered me into the front seat. I slid in, Sam already upfront as well. I didn't mind sitting between them.  
Dean slid in behind me, slicking his hand over his face as he started the car. "Now tell me who the douche bag cop was."  
"Disgruntled ex. His dad's the mayor so his position is nearly golden."  
Once Dean was in drive his hand took mine in my lap and laced our fingers together. "I don't care who he is, next time, I'm hitting him."  
"By all means, just leave the knife out of it. So what exactly do we do to get the ghost out? Have a seance?"  
"No. It'll come out, don't worry." Sam said.  
Dean drove straight to the house, knowing where it was.  
"So, are you two ghost hunters?"  
"We're hunters, but we hunt more than ghosts." Dean replied.  
"Why didn't you believe your parapsychology class?" Sam asked.  
"It wasn't so much as I didn't believe it as it just seemed to raise more questions and for some reason the answers—even though I still don't know them—they kind of scared me." I used the gate key and the large iron gate slowly swung open.  
"You will stay in the car." Dean said.  
"Actually, I won't."  
"Don't argue with me on this, Dee. You're staying in the car." Dean parked, cutting the engine.  
"There's a security system as well as locked doors. Both of which I have the access to and you don't."  
He sighed. "Fine, but you stay with me."  
I smiled in triumph. "Deal."  
He couldn't help but grin at me. He and Sam both took shot guns loaded with salt rounds which apparently worked against ghosts, for a few moments anyway. Dean and I split off from Sam, wandering around. I showed him where each of them had been found, leading us to the upstairs, where he stopped at every room with an EMF detector. Sam had explained to him that I would know what it was.  
"Do we just wander until it appears? Because this could get boring fast." I crossed my arms, slightly cold from being wet.  
He stopped me by gently grabbing my elbow and tossing the EMF reader on the bed beside his already laid down shotgun. "I can think of a way to pass some time. "  
I welcomed his lips to mine, the kiss deepening quickly and instantly warming me up in so many different ways. Whoever the ghost was, I was hoping they stayed wherever they were for a lot longer. But of course, thinking it alone would bring it out. The EMF started going off and I pulled my lips from his, the air suddenly a bit colder around us.  
He trailed his lips down my neck, his hand tangling in my hair around the back of my neck, I didn't want him to stop.  
"Dean?" His name came out breathy.  
He held me a bit tighter, returning to my lips briefly before moving to the other side of my neck. God, I really didn't want him to stop. The EMF reader started getting louder and he finally pulled away.  
Then too much happened way too fast. My entirely body went rigid as the ghost appeared, but I wasn't scared. I felt... this felt... familiar...? My vision tweaked, for a moment I would see the ghost and Dean with his shotgun then my vision would blur, like a smoke crept in and colors would swirl and I would see... myself? But not in a mirror... like I was watching myself... and I was... what was I doing? What was I wearing? Was that a... toga?  
I heard Dean yell, my vision blacking out for a brief moment before clearing as the ghost moved toward me. My vision cleared, but my head pounded as the ghost moved closer. Again, no fear, but the pain was growing. The ghosts hand moved, slamming the door as Sam's footsteps were heard down the hallway.  
My hand moved, not of my doing; the pain burned through my skull and down my spine and I squeezed my eyes shut and fell to my knees as the pain became too much. What was this? Could a ghost cause this?  
I screamed as the pain escalated further and then I blacked out.


End file.
